


Constellations

by ratedgrandr



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, i mean really what else could you want?, in a bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:52:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratedgrandr/pseuds/ratedgrandr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius and Courfeyrac take their relationship to a whole new level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know.

Courfeyrac sees everything, even if his friends might not assume as much. And after a few nights of bringing Marius around the Amis, Courf is not blind to his discomfort. In fact he can practically feel it wafting off of him, feel the heat burning the redhead’s cheeks as Bahorel makes some passing sexual innuendo regarding Marius’s sex life, and Courfeyrac can’t help but grimace considering his friend had only just the night previously confided that he had yet to actually have sex with anyone. So Courf swoops in, setting a tray of shots down in front of Marius and slinging his arm around the freckled man’s shoulder before pressing soft kisses to Marius’s cheeks. “What my poor little room mate does in bed is none of your business, Bahorel,” Courf tuts, his eyes gleaming bright with mischief as he nuzzles into Marius, causing the other to flush an even deeper shade of crimson.

Bahorel finds this humorous, and gulps down half of his beer before responding. “What makes it your business then?” he teases, causing Courfeyrac to grin widely and run his fingers through Marius’s hair.

By this point, Marius looks as if he wishes the earth to completely engulf him and swallow him whole.

“Maybe I’m the one in bed with him every night. Who’s to say?” Courf counters, eyebrows wiggling as he hands Marius a tequila shot. “Cheers, sweetheart,” he says with a flirtatious grin towards Marius who downs the shot and immediately seeks out a lime which he sucks on for a second, thankful for a reason not to speak. It’s not that he needs Courfeyrac to defend him and fight his battles, it’s just that his feelings have become so mixed for his best friend lately that he’s not even sure if he wants to admit that Courfeyrac is lying. He finds himself nuzzling further into Courf’s touches, catches his eyes lingering a bit too long, his skin burning not from shame or embarrassment but from an odd heat in the pit of his stomach, sitting heavy like a stone, a heat that he can’t exactly place or name.

All he knows is that he likes the way Courfeyrac’s arm feels around his waist, and he’s buzzed enough that he isn’t going to try and push it off right now.

“Pontmercy can only wish for your affections, Courfeyrac,” Bahorel laughs and shakes his head as he takes one of the whiskey shots and shoots it down, earning a scoff from Courfeyrac.

After another shot, Courf leans forward, brushing against Marius, so incredibly close that Marius can smell his scent, clean and fresh and completely inspiring, and he’s not sure if he’s just drunk or actually turned on by the whole action but all he knows is that he can’t lose the warmth of Courfeyrac next to him or else he just might float away.

“It’s true. Marius and I are together,” he said with a grin. Marius makes a noise that sounds like something between an agreement and a cat being strangled, and Courfeyrac’s resolve dissolves and leaves him in a fit of giggles at how brightly Marius is flushing right now. He places kiss after kiss upon Marius’s cheeks, sprinkling his skin with affection, leaving as many kisses as the man has freckles, and Marius is soon laughing along, whether because Courf’s kisses feel like butterflies wings or because he’s just that utterly happy at this new closeness of his best friend that he can’t help but laugh.

Bahorel just eyes them, shaking his head before shifting to talk to Grantaire who sits to his left.

It takes a minute for the giggles to subside, but Marius’s cheeks are still flushed with pink, coloring him like a rose, leaving Courfeyrac stunned into a tension-filled silence as he straightens up and downs yet another shot. “I’ve got to piss,” he announces quickly, standing and tugging Marius with him, an impish kind of grin on his lips as he drags Marius back towards the bathroom, a look of utter shock on the redhead’s face. Once again that pretty blush is coloring Marius’s cheeks as Courfeyrac tugs him into the small one person bathroom of the Musain, and immediately Marius is babbling something mostly unintelligible about how dirty this bathroom is and how much he appreciates Courf sticking up for him but really, he didn’t have to do that and --

“You’re an idiot sometimes, for someone who’s incredibly smart, you know that Marius?” Courfeyrac breathes. He’s kneeling on the ground, fingers tugging at the button on Marius’s pants, and the law student lets out another one of those unintelligable noises he’s gotten into the habit of making. “Don’t lie and say you don’t want this. You’re my best friend, I can read you like a book, and you’ve been staring at me all night,” Courf murmured, that crooked grin still in place as he tugs Marius’s jeans down to his knees.

“I, this is just, What are you doing?” he asks, his voice half-hearted as Courfeyrac’s tongue runs along his hip bone, sending chills through him and raising goose bumps onto his skin. This only brightens Courfeyrac’s smile as he tugs down Marius’s boxers and grins up at his friend smugly, frowning when someone knocks at the door.

“Occupied,” he calls in a sing-songy voice before looking back towards Marius and pressing a finger to his lips obviously to tell him to be quiet. But how does Courfeyrac expect him to stay silent when he already wants to groan in anticipation? Any other day he’d blatantly protest this, but his mind was fogged by the alcohol and his judgement clouded thanks to the strange feelings that had been festering in the pit of his stomach, feelings he usually pushes down but is finally giving into today. Because why not? It’s not like he has anyone he’s hurting, its not like his parents can hate him for admitting he’s gay. He’s been living on his own for two years now, and he has no one who can tell him what’s wrong or right, what he can or can’t do or --

He lets out a whiny sort of moan as Courfeyrac’s lips seal around the tip of his erection and he clutches at Courf’s curls as his knees buckle from the initial shock. Courfeyrac smirks as his fingers clutch Marius’s hips and he slowly traces his tongue down Marius’s length, tasting him, teasing him, trying to coax more of those beautiful noises from Marius’s thin lips. He could feel Marius’s thin fingers tangled through his curls as he slowly teased him, lapping at the sensitive head of his cock, stroking his length with his hand and urging Marius to beg for it.

Marius is torn between keeping quiet or keening, praising Courfeyrac as his chest heaves from a sigh. “Courfeyrac,” he groans softly, as quietly as he can manage, his breath nothing more than the sound of dust settling, but Courf hears, he always hears, and he knows that this is the most he will get so he takes Marius’s entire length into his mouth, bobbing his head, flexing the muscles in his throat as Marius keens, leaning completely against the wall, head rolled back as if he just might float away.

It doesn’t take much more of this before Marius hits the edge of his pleasure and lets it wash over him, exploding in Courfeyrac’s mouth, shuddering as his friend licks him clean, tasting every bit of him, leaving him completely wrecked as he leans against the bathroom wall, breathing labored and fingers still curled through Courfeyrac’s hair as the man chuckles and tugs his boxers and jeans back up for him. “If you think that was good, you’ve got something else coming,” Courfeyrac says as he stands, smirking and pressing a sensual kiss to Marius’s lips, much different than the small pecks they shared earlier in the evening.

They stumble from the bathroom in fits of giggles and soft kisses, hands touching spots that might usually lead to protest but tonight just feels intimate. Marius doesn’t complain when Courfeyrac stuffs his hand into the back pocket of Marius’s jeans and in turn Marius slings his arm around Courf’s waist, leaning against the other man for support.

“We’re going home,” Courfeyrac announces to no one in particular. All of their friends are enraptured by Enjolras telling a story across the bar, the perfect time for them to slip out, Courfeyrac can’t help but think with a smirk. He tugs Marius out the door, backing him into the wall of the pub and kissing him deeply, a tangle of tongues and a mashing of lips, a sensual feeling that sends stars bursting behind Marius’s eyes which are squeezed closed as he gropes Courfeyrac’s ass, pulling the other impossibly closer in a way he never knew he wanted until now.

“Let’s get home,” Courfeyrac gasps, his voice husky and thick with lust. Marius nods, stumbling after him as they duck into the backseat of a taxi. It isn’t long before their home and naked in Courfeyrac’s bed, a twist and tangle of pale, lanky limbs and dusted freckles blurring against sun-kissed skin.

“Now, let’s take care of a little problem that is your virginity, Pontmercy,” Courfeyrac murmurs, solliciting a soft moan from the other man’s lips as his head falls back and his back arches into Courfeyrac, welcoming him as his lips wander down Marius’s skin, connecting the thousands of freckles with passionate kisses, marking constellations across the fair skin that serves as Coureyrac’s night sky.


End file.
